Wisdom comes in many forms to those who search. The Ancient Greeks are known for their philosophers--Diogenes being one of them. Diogenes was a character of sorts who believed in the eternal search for wisdom which can only come from simplicity of life. (Diogenes was known as the man in the tub.) With that in mind, considering diogenes_athens is akin to Diogenes in spirit, here are the best words of wisdom that have come down the pike in many years. Enjoy!
Ladies and gentlemen of the Class of '99 . . . wear sunscreen. If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists where the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, nevermind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me. In 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.
You're not as fat as you imagine.
Don't worry about the future. Or, worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind...the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing everyday that scares you.
Sing.
Don't be reckless with other people's hearts.
Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long...sad in the end...it's only with yourself.
Remember the compliments you receive. Forget the insults.
If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don't feel quilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.
Get plenty of calcium.
Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.
Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding aniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either. Your choices are half-chance. So are everybody else's.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it, or want other people to think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.
Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths. Prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you'll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time it's 40, it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it.
Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
But, trust me on the sunscreen.
written by Mary Schmich for Chicago Tribune
Everything I Do